


the whiskey, the liar, the thief

by punkrockbadger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockbadger/pseuds/punkrockbadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He proves her right within seconds, and he laughs uproariously before running off to his next class, while she is left to compose herself before going back to the Slytherin common room. It wouldn’t do to skip all the way down to the dungeons, but for some peculiar reason, that is what she feels like doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the whiskey, the liar, the thief

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the Patent Pending song "The Whiskey, The Liar, The Thief", which really makes me think of Ted/Dromeda for some reason?

“Wotcher.” The boy says, grinnning madly.

The Herbology professor, Sprout, had the brilliant idea of encouraging inter-house cooperation by pairing the third years from Gryffindors and Slytherins by similar test scores, and now Andromeda is stuck with this mannerless hooligan, whose red and gold striped tie hangs far too loose around his neck.

His light blond hair is cut far too short for his delicate facial structure, the elbows of his worn out gray jumper are patched terribly, and the ends of his too long robes are frayed and tattered. His books and supplies are obviously secondhand, and smell besides. Not the type of person she would talk to under any circumstance other than this, but his scores must be good if they had been paired.

“Wotcher.” He raises a single eyebrow as her eyes tentatively meet his. “What, am I not good enough for your highness?”

“Hello to you too.” She grinds out, almost amazed by how brash Gryffindors could get. After years of Sirius, she had assumed that she had seen the most extreme Gryffindor of them all, but this boy makes Sirius look well-behaved. If nothing, he deserves her respect for that.

“Right. Much better.” He grins wide, revealing a mouth full of yellowing crooked teeth, before getting to work on the day’s assignment, with a surprising amount of diligence. Much more than she’d expected, but still not enough, if he was planning to keep up with her. Lucius Malfoy, that arsehole, smirks at her from across the table. Fitting, he’s probably thinking, that the Black ended up with a Mudblood Gryffindor, and one with a reputation besides.

They labor on in silence, repotting various types of plants while Andromeda measures out the correct amounts of fertilizer types and meticulously labels planter pots, before her partner breaks the silence. “Name’s Ted. Ted Tonks. Edward, if you want to be proper, but Ted works just fine.”

“Andromeda Black.” She keeps her silence, knowing that even if she weren’t a Black, the green and silver tie that hangs around her neck like a noose would be hexed impossibly tight if any one of her peers, let alone Bella, found her engaging in anything resembling a discussion with a Gryffindor, especially one so proud of his lack of blood status. “Call me Andromeda.”

“What’s your deal?” He asks, once the majority of the Slytherins have left, most due to either inability or unwillingness to complete the assignment. The few that are left look up, but stay out of what surely looks to be an impending fight. It wouldn’t do, to get detention this late in the year, and jeopardize Slytherin’s chance at the House Cup. Gryffindor hasn’t won in years, so Tonks has nothing to worry about.

“My deal?” She asks, surprised. “What?”

“Your deal.” He says, finishing up the last pot before wiping his grubby gloves on his robes, groaning when he realizes that he had been wearing gloves the whole time and need not have wiped anything off. “You one of them berks that want to kill me off?”

She pauses, chewing her lip as she considers the point for a minute, and shakes her head minutely, earning the brightest smile yet. The other Slytherins do not look up, and she is incredibly glad. News would quickly get back to Bella and her cronies or Cissy, if anyone had been looking, and then she’d really be in for it.

“Brilliant.” He whispers, aware of the danger of such an admission in these troubled times, but his eyes are suddenly alight. “Always nice when you find yourself one or two of those.”

“I suppose it would be.” The corners of her lips twist barely upward and he winks roguishly before grabbing his books and running off, too large robes flapping in the wind. “See you round, Dromeda.”

She watches him leave, packing her books up slowly, and considers the merits of rebellion.

* * *

“Dromeda!” Ted calls down the near empty hall, waving a paper in the air as he runs in her general direction. Andromeda sighs, allowing herself a hint of a smile, as he skids to a stop in front of her. “Got a question. ‘Bout the Herbology exam.”

“And you’re asking me because?” She smirks, thankful that she’s alone. Bella would have labeled this flirting the second Ted had come within five feet of her, and Cissy would have written home before she could blink. She wonders what her sisters would say if they knew she and Ted had been hiding out in empty classrooms for nearly a year and a half now, discussing everything from stances on blood purity (both agreed that it was an absolute rubbish policy) to family (he had none and she had too much) to the efficacy of cinnamon in energy replenishing potion (she maintained that it was only in theory and shouldn’t be endorsed, but he said the only way to find out was try it).

“Well, see, you’re the smartest girl I know.” He winks and she notes that it is far more attractive on a fifteen year old than it was on a thirteen year old. He’s also the only boy in the school taller than her, excluding Lucius Malfoy, and that’s also quite the redeeming quality. “And I figured that if anyone could answer my question, it’d be you.”

“Me?” She asks, batting her eyelashes as a joke. “Really now?”

“Really.” He says, sounding so sincere that she can’t help but believe him. In the two years since that disastrous first meeting, he’d straightened up a fair bit, thanks to some help from her extensive knowledge of cleaning and repair spells. “It’d be pretty swell if you could answer the question over a cup of coffee. Hogsmeade weekend Saturday.”

“I—“ She stiffens, thinking first of what Bella would say, forgetting momentarily that her sister is far away with that blasted husband of hers, and he waits until they are alone to lace his fingers through hers.

“C’mon, Dromeda. Live a little.” He offers her a small smile and she matches him one for one. “They can’t rule you forever.”

“They can’t.” She agrees and nods. No one else (save Sirius, who insisted on Andie) has called her anything other than her full name. For that alone, he deserves a chance. “We have to be careful.” A storm is brewing and she wants no part in it for either of them. She wants no part in the coming storm for anyone, but her sisters have placed themselves squarely in the middle of it and there is nothing she can do but hope that they will reconsider.

“I’m stealthy.” He grins, effectively distracting her. “Totally.”

“Prove it, Tonks.” She smirks, knowing he’ll likely trip over his own shoelaces within the minute. He’s terribly clumsy.

He proves her right within seconds, and he laughs uproariously before running off to his next class, while she is left to compose herself before going back to the Slytherin common room. It wouldn’t do to skip all the way down to the dungeons, but for some peculiar reason, that is what she feels like doing.

She compromises and skips through the corridors she knows will be empty to the dungeons and walks like a proper lady should from there.

* * *

“You were seen.” Narcissa says coldly, Lucius standing behind her looking frosty as always. “In Hogsmeade. With… a Mudblood.”

“Sprout made us partners in a research paper. We were discussing possible options.” She knows how to play Narcissa’s game, and play it well. Narcissa is one to know when a cause is lost, and after a few seconds of a staring contest, she gracefully backs down.

“It certainly did not look like two friends having coffee while discussing school.” Lucius sneers, and Andromeda sighs.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know about leaving the school very much, considering your grades have been hovering quite close to rock bottom for some time now, Malfoy. I’m sure the ladies accept sudden introversion as an excuse much more than they’d like hearing Lucius Malfoy, Gigantic Screwup.” She smirks, reminding everyone why she’d been sorted into Slytherin, and makes for the fifth year dormitory before Malfoy can even try and formulate a response.

Below her bed, carefully hidden under the mattress, are pictures from the weekend, held together by a miracle that Ted calls a “rubber band”, and she casts all the wards she can think of before retrieving them.

As she flips through the collection, she decides she’ll believe Ted the next time he tells her how exquisite he finds her smile to be, and refuses to feel bad about it.

* * *

"Where do you want to be? When we graduate?" Ted asks, fingers laced through hers. They are only fifteen now, and exams loom close in their futures, but Ted is a fortress of impenetrable calm. It rubs off, Andromeda thinks, but maybe that can be attributed to all the drinking they are doing.

"Near you." She answers honestly, and takes another swig from the bottle they have pilfered from the kitchen. "Sounds as if it'd be interesting."

"I'm always where the action is." He snorts. "Go go Gryffindor, am I right?"

"Yeah." She smiles easily when she's smashed, Ted notes, and resolves to get her drunk more often.

* * *

 

They are in the Prefect’s Carriage of the train, hands carefully linked together, as the train takes them back to London. She has a whole summer full of lavish social events to look forward to, including a coming of age party right before the advent of her seventh year to celebrate her entrance into society, and he will likely spend his time living off of bare minimum wage, if he can find employment that’ll keep for the full summer. She has her fears and he has his own, but they are there for each other for now, and that is all that matters.

“Love you.” He murmurs thoughtfully, one the other Prefects have gone on patrol. “Lots and stuff.”

“I love you too.” It slips out before she can stop it and the words burn like they’ve been etched across her chest indelibly. But it’s the truth. For once in her life, she is telling the truth without aiming to hurt someone, and it’s liberating. “I—I love you too!”

He laughs as she whispers the same four words again and again, changing tone and inflection, and they stand up just as Lucius Malfoy enters the compartment, followed by a Hufflepuff prefect whose name she can’t remember for the life of her, looking haughty as always. “Your turn to patrol, Black, Mudblood.”

“My name’s Tonks, Malfoy.” Ted says, drawing himself up to his full height. He’s nearly a head taller than Lucius, striking an intimidating figure even when compared to the most intimidating figure at Hogwarts. “Use it.”

“I will not debase myself to that extent.” He sneers, and she drags Ted away for his own safety.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with…” She whispers, and Ted’s eyes burn.  
  
“I saw how he was looking at you. Like you’re… you’re a piece of meat and just there for him to take!” Ted’s hands gesticulate wildly, as they always do when he’s speaking. “It’s terrible! Someone needs to punch him right in his smarmy little face!”

The train whistle blows halfway through his speech and she sighs, checking the hallway for watchers before planting a kiss on his lips. “Be good, Teddy.”

“I will if you will, Dromeda.” He winks and squeezes her hand one last time before they go off to attend to their own trunks and lives, both hearts beating earnestly for September first.

* * *

The only change that comes with the new school year is Regulus joining his older cousins at Hogwarts.

“Are there really—" Regulus begins, always ready to ask another question so long as he receives an acceptable answer, and Narcissa shushes him insistently.

Ted catches Andromeda’s eye across the platform, looking ragged and malnourished, and Sirius frowns and looks to Andromeda. “Is that—"

Narcissa looks horrified for a second, thinking that Andromeda has dared to teach Sirius that having friends like Ted was acceptable, but relaxes when she realizes Sirius has not been staring at Andromeda’s charity case, but beyond him, at a dark skinned little boy with rectangular glasses and a mop of wild black hair accompanied by his aging parents. “I suppose that is the Potter boy, yes. Do be nice when you say hello.”

“Yes, Cissy.” Sirius bows exaggeratedly and runs off to join his friend, Regulus following him like a duckling, while the house elf moves his things onto the train and Narcissa scoffs at Ted.

“Look at the Mudblood, doesn’t even have the _decency_ to take care of himself. Now the rest of us have to _look at him_. Disgusting.” She tosses her hair, crossing her arms. “I would take points off if I could.”

“You can’t take points off of someone just because you don’t like them, Cissy.” Andromeda sighs as they both make their way to the Prefect’s Compartment, where Ted sits alone in a corner. She is glad when she realizes Lucius and Narcissa now pair up immediately for patrol duties, leaving her some free time with Ted, and they stay back as the compartment empties, some people off to go be with friends until their patrol shift came up.

“Wotcher.” He croaks, smiling sadly.

“Wotcher.” She replies, trying out his customary greeting for once. It sounds wrong, coming from her, but it cheers him up a little. “How was your summer?”

“You have a ring.” He says, holding up her left hand. A silver ring, inlaid with the crest of the Nott family of Sherwood Hall, glistens on her ring finger, and she quiets. “You… I thought you loved me.”

“I do!” She exclaims. “Always!”

“Then… then why?” He asks, looking utterly defeated. “You said you’d pick me.”

“I want to.” She says, leaning against him as she used to on the warm afternoons leading up to that disastrous train home, and he stiffens as she rests her head on his shoulder, up until the collar of her shirt rides down to reveal a large, purpling bruise swallowing the majority of her shoulder. “I want to, Ted, I want to…”

“Then do.” He says, quiet. “I’ve been saving up money and I bet you have too. We’ll go somewhere safe. Together. At the end of this year.”

“Together.” She rolls the word around on her tongue and finds herself loving it more and more with every passing minute.

* * *

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Bella stands in Andromeda’s doorway as she tearfully shoves clothes and books into a bedraggled Muggle knapsack Ted had lent her. She has come home (no, not home, simply the house she grew up in) to collect her clothes, over the winter holidays, and her Apparition license is a perfect early Christmas present, allowing her a quick escape. “Leaving your whole future for one boy, let alone a—"

“Don’t call him that.” She says, eyes burning with the same rage she’d seen in Ted years ago. “Don’t call my love that.”

“Your love?” Bellatrix laughs hysterically, wiping her eyes. “I thought you were our sensible one, Andie, but here you are, lovesick over an animal. Perhaps the Mudblood’s cast some hexes.”

“I’m not _yours_ , Bella.” She hisses, shoving the last of the things she needs into the knapsack, and casts a cursory glance around the room before running for the stairs. “And I never will be.”

“I’ll let Cissy know you didn’t care enough to say goodbye.” Bella calls, a sharp edge shining through the careless words.

“Or maybe I simply cared too much to say goodbye to her.” Andromeda delivers the final barb, twisting it hard to ensure damage, before running out into the snowy December night, visualizing the small flat they’d found just outside of London, where Ted’s strong arms and hot chocolate await her. It is much better than anything this house could have given her, now, and she has a whole future to look forward to.

A much better future than anything the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black would have given her.

So she collapses into Ted’s arms when she materializes on their ratty old couch and he folds her into the warmest embrace she has ever felt, melting the fear and cold from her bones with his soft smile.

Neither of them need to speak to know that things will be okay.


End file.
